


Rescue Mission

by Tafka



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Blood Magic, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 22:25:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15828150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tafka/pseuds/Tafka
Summary: For the prompt "Hawke sells Fenris back to Danarius without a second thought. Hawke's friends are furious and they leave Kirkwall to bring Fenris back." Written from Merrill's perspective.





	Rescue Mission

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to @aban_asaara for betaing!

Merrill was woken by a pounding at her door, which wasn’t that unusual, since Hawke was often up and about at all times. It wasn’t Hawke, though, it was Varric, who was usually more considerate with his visiting hours. This night he looked haunted, and didn’t return her pleased greeting. 

“We have to go to the docks,” he said, without preamble, “get your staff and armor.”

Varric was usually more talkative than this, so Merrill prompted him to explain more.

“Hawke has… done something,” was all he could manage.

* * *

They arrived at the docks and Merrill had still found out nothing more about what had happened, except that they were going on Isabela’s ship and no, Hawke would not be joining them. This was unusual, to say the least, but she assumed it would all make sense if she just kept quiet and listened to everyone talking around her. It usually did. 

This time, no one was talking. When they got to the ship Aveline was silently carrying bags aboard and Isabela was dashing about the rigging like the Dread Wolf was nipping at her heels. Anders and Fenris were nowhere in sight, which was a good sign meaning that she wouldn’t be yelled at tonight. Varric steered her towards a part of the deck where she was mostly out of the way, and wordlessly sat down next to her. Absentmindedly, he put his hand to his mouth and began to bite the meat of his thumb, a nervous tic that only came out when he was really upset about something, like his brother, or… really, she’d only seen him do that when worrying over Bartrand.

After a few minutes of strained silence, Merrill leaned over towards him. “Varric?”

He grunted distractedly.

“Why are we here?”

He sighed and ran his hand over his face. It took him a moment to gather words. “We were at the Hanged Man tonight. Hawke, Anders, Fenris, me. Fenris asked Hawke there, said he was going to meet someone. Only it wasn’t who he thought it was. Or, she was, but… ah shit, Daisy, it was a mess.”

She moved to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but was interrupted by yelling from the gangplank.

“What is the meaning of this? Where’s Hawke? What’s happened to Fenris?” An agitated Sebastian was climbing aboard. 

“Something happened to Fenris?” echoed Merrill, but Varric’s attention was elsewhere now, trying to calm down Sebastian.

Merrill wondered why Varric had not mentioned that Fenris was in trouble. Did he think she wouldn’t come to help him? She would. She wondered if Varric knew she would. She wondered if Fenris did.

Varric wrangled Sebastian into the seat he had just vacated, and stood in front of the pair of them with the most serious look Merrill could ever remember him having. “There was a trap, for Fenris, at the Hanged Man. He thought he was meeting his sister, but Danarius was there.”

Merrill’s eyes went wide. Sebastian gasped. Varric shook his head, to say that the story only got worse from here.

“And then Hawke--” Varric stopped here, as if he could not bear to continue. Next to her, Sebastian leaned forward, tension in every line of his body. “Hawke said he wanted to make an… arrangement.”

“Arrangement?” Merrill’s voice felt like it was coming from somewhere far away.

Sebastian’s voice was much closer, “WHAT?”

“He gave Fenris back to Danarius. For the reward.” Varric looked defeated.

“But he wouldn’t do that, would he? Not really.” Merrill looked over at Sebastian for confirmation. Hawke would do a great many things for money, but she was sure selling one of his friends, well, one of his associates, back into slavery was not one of them.

What seemed a lot more like Hawke was to _pretend_ to go along with Danarius long enough to get paid, then to turn on him like he had always meant to from the beginning. Merrill said as much, and Sebastian readily agreed. Hawke did that sort of thing a lot, although not normally with people.

“That’s what I thought,” came a harsh voice from behind her. Anders stood there with an armful of elfroot potions in little glass jars. “I thought we were just having a bit of fun at Fenris’ expense. Then we’d leave the pub, turn around, come in the back way, and get him back again. I didn’t think Hawke was _serious_. But then--” 

“I can’t believe it.” Merrill said, “I just can’t. Hawke may have done a lot of things. A lot of bad things, really, but I can’t believe he would--”

“You weren’t there!” cried Anders, and Merrill felt herself shrink down a bit, even though Justice didn’t put in an appearance.

Varric put up his hands in a peacekeeping gesture, “I was there, and so was Anders. It’s what really happened, and now it’s up to us to set things right.”

“We’re going to get him back, you mean?” said Sebastian.

Anders bent to put the little glass jars into a nearby chest, “No, we’re just going out for a bit of a pleasure cruise in the middle of the night.” Standing back up, he brushed off his coat, looking perturbed despite his sarcastic tone. “Are we ready to leave now?” he asked no one in particular.

“Hold on, there,” Isabela said. “We’ve got one more to wait for.”

* * *

Carver’s Templar armor shone in the moon’s light as he stood near the prow of the ship, peering out into the night. The waves crashed around them and the deck pitched up and down, making Merrill feel sick. Far in the distance, there was a point of light that marked Danarius’ ship. Merrill thought for a moment that they could never hope to catch up to it, but soon she found out that Isabela was a remarkable pirate.

* * *

They worked together seamlessly, even without Hawke there. Isabela led Aveline and Carver to the deck of the other ship, while Sebastian climbed to the crow’s nest and began sending arrows down at the many bodyguards that streamed up from below decks at the attack. Anders was concentrated on sending healing magic to whomever needed it, while Varric stayed on the deck near the railing next to Merrill, the best range for both of them to attack Danarius from.

Aboard the other ship, Danarius stood in the middle of the deck, cloaked in a barrier provided by his many apprentices, with Fenris by his side, tied to him by a leash of blood magic. 

Merrill’s stomach turned at the sight. In a moment, she remembered every time Fenris had raged against the evils of blood magic and she knew that _this_ is what he was thinking of.

The moment Aveline got close to them, Fenris began to attack, not in his normal flowing grace, but jerkily, like a marionette. Aveline turned to the defense immediately, unwilling to do anything to hurt her friend.

Watching from afar, Merrill realized what she needed to do. Making a small cut on her arm, she reached out with her blood magic and ensnared Danarius’ own with it. It was a strange sensation, linking with another’s blood magic like this, something she had never felt before. She could feel the pulses of compulsion within his leash, but not read them completely, as if there was a thin membrane between them. She sent out feelers with her own blood, probing around the link, looking for a way inside.

Distantly she could feel, as Danarius could feel, the rain of crossbow bolts that bounced harmlessly off his magic barrier, and the nearby bending of the fade as Carver Silenced another of his apprentices. Danarius ignored this, and so did Merrill, until finally, a pain came, so sharp that neither of them could ignore it.

Isabela had appeared, suddenly behind him in a puff of concealing and irritating smoke. She dug Honeycut into his lower back, the knife’s subtle edge slicing through cloth and magic alike to cut deep. 

Instantly, Merrill saw that this was her chance, and pushed her blood magic into the newly-made cut. It bled freely, and without the protection his leashes had. Now Merrill found herself lost in another blood mage’s magic, with no experience of what to do next. She never pushed her blood this far, when she dared to use this type of magic on Hawke’s enemies. She had seen the other blood mages they battled use it many times before. Her mind flicked back to battling Hadriana and how she had cast the spell so readily, and how Danarius now had a similar spell active on Fenris. 

She knew she could only follow their lead in this. She pushed deeper into Danarius’ blood with her own, sending it flowing through his veins, to entrap his mind, his heart. With it, she sent the thought of _Mine, Mine, Mine_ as if she could make his heart and mind her own. Her magic seemed to take on a life of its own as she did this, turning from probing tendrils to a thousand grasping hands, pulling and holding on wherever they could find purchase within him.

The reaction from Danarius was immediate, and decisive. Merrill may not know what she was doing in a blood magic duel, but he certainly did. A seizing happened within him, and all her magic’s hands were immediately shocked with a roiling pain. His attention was firmly off Fenris and the others now, and onto her. He locked his gaze to her where she stood on the other ship, and sent out another blood leash towards her, this one glowing as if red hot.

She couldn’t dodge or block it without losing hold of her own spell, and she knew she could never get as good a handhold on him again. So she stood fast as the leash snaked around her mind, lassoing her tight. _Mine_ , said the leash, _mine, mine, mine_. Its compulsion was stronger than hers, more practiced, but still she pressed on with her own spell, moving its target from Danarius’ mind to his hold on Fenris. There she found greater purchase, as his control of the other elf’s mind had been neglected as he fended off attacks from the others. And now she attacked him from within, as well. 

It was getting harder and harder to keep up her attack, however, with his own leash pushing at her mind. She had to keep at least half her effort in reserve to defend against his more powerful control.

Suddenly, a crack of Anders’ lightning hit the deck near where Danarius stood, and he was forced to take cover or be incinerated. Merrill felt his momentary weakness on both Fenris’ and her own blood leashes, and took the opportunity to _pull_ with all her might on the tether connecting Fenris to his former master. It came free with a sudden laxness, and Merrill mentally reeled in imbalance. Fenris was left blinking, stunned, in the middle of a blow against Aveline’s shield, and Merrill was left without any of her protections against Danarius’ assault.

The leash tightened around her mind immediately, and with it came a feeling of weightlessness in her own mind and body. She immediately gave up her own attack on his mind, her blood magic evaporating from the air between the two ships. She could feel his elation at winning the duel echoing in her mind. _Now,_ his voice pulsed through her veins, _burn them, burn the others_.

She was detached from her body, her magic, as she turned to cast at the crow’s nest of the ship, where Sebastian was still picking off bodyguards with well-aimed arrows. Distantly, she felt a fireball growing in her hands, at the ready.

Suddenly, she had weight again, and control over her own mind. The fireball dissipated in her hands, and she whipped around to look where Danarius stood. He was slumping over, a lifeless husk, as Fenris stood behind him with his bleeding heart clutched in one hand. 

Everything ended quickly, after that.

* * *

Back aboard Isabela’s ship, they all tended to their wounds, an automatic practice after battle, even without Hawke there to tell them to do it. Anders was healing a nasty gash Aveline had on her bicep, and Varric was wrapping a poultice for Carver. Isabela had retrieved a blanket from somewhere and wrapped it around Fenris’ shoulders. It was a sign of how shaken he was that he did not protest or grumble about it.

Merrill tried not to look expectantly at Fenris, although she was worried as to the lasting effect of Danarius’ blood magic leash on his mind. He seemed like his regular self, though, replying with a strained “If you must” to Anders’ offer of healing.

When Anders finished, and turned to help Isabela, Fenris came over and sat down on the bench next to Merrill. She wondered that he would voluntarily be near a blood mage, especially after today’s events, but decided to say nothing of it, lest she annoy him into changing his mind. Fenris also said nothing, and so they sat in silence together, peacefully.

After they were all mostly patched up, the small amount of conversation that had gone on between the others dried up.

Finally, Varric broke the silence. “Hawke,” he said, turning towards Carver. “Where do we go now?”

Carver didn’t need a moment to think. “Back to Kirkwall,” he answered, “I have an apostate to deal with.”

To all of their surprise, there was no one to argue with him.


End file.
